


Ollie Ollie Oxen Free

by WT Maxwell (WThomas_M)



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: 1960s, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-06-30 11:03:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19851811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WThomas_M/pseuds/WT%20Maxwell
Summary: Professor X sets out a little test for students who are telepathically sensitive. It involves the local gardener. That shouldn't be a problem, right?





	Ollie Ollie Oxen Free

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pdhudson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pdhudson/gifts), [a_kind_animist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_kind_animist/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Hurdy Gurdy Man](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19294630) by [pdhudson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pdhudson/pseuds/pdhudson). 



"Thrown like a star in my vast sleep  
I open my eyes to take a peep  
To find that I was by the sea  
Me gazing with tranquility" - Donovan, _The Hurdy Gurdy Man_ (1968)

[A Student Logs the Assignment]

So, here's the thing.

We're out on that round porch outside the mansion. You know the one? The big one with the view. Just up from the garden with the hedge maze and the ball court and the roses. That spot. Waiting for the Professor, though half the time he doesn't show up in person. He doesn't need to.

Biggest brain in the world. Capital T Telepath. He can talk to anyone on the planet, even if he's stuck in a wheelchair in the study. Can coordinate the efforts of mutant students and mutant superhero teams without breaking a sweat.

Kinda makes him my hero.

I love him for that.

Kinda scared of him a bit too.

Figure that's normal.

There's only a handful of us here from deep-divers to shallow-scanners. The big-brains-in-training. Our talents may come up in different ways but we all see Big Futures for ourselves. I mean, yeah, that sure sounds prideful and all but what can you say about people who can lift the entire textbook from a teacher's mind AND understand it in the time it takes most people to get through the acknowledgments?

Professor says this is a vital class for T-paths.

"Ontological Boundaries vis-a-vis Exomorphic Intrusion".

We, the humble students, call it Psy-War 101.

Today's assignment?

Scrub the chub.

Our term. Three rules: Slip under the skin. Find the kewpie doll. Don't scare the straight.

More explanation. Professor brings up a rube, a normie, and we're supposed to peel off the normal chatter, dig into the guts to get a secret implanted in the normie's head, and then get out without freaking him out.

Takes mental fortitude.

That's what he says.

First time we did this, it was this chick named Moira. Turned out to be Professor X's ex- (and boy, were  _ those _ embarrassing thoughts to pick up). The secret was that she used to run a place like the X-Mansion on Muir Island.

Today's target: apparently, the gardener.

Scruffy looking guy, about medium-height, little bit of a paunch but not much, mustache and what I think he thinks a goatee must look like. Bottle-thick glasses that I know he doesn't have to wear. Rarely see this dude (and then at a distance) without either a cig in his mouth or sucking on some candy but today, it's apparently a candy-only exercise. Sort of beatnik by way of Peanuts. And a big, dumb smile.

Nice enough dude, I suppose.

I suppose that's why he got suckered into this.

Dude plops down on the floor, cross-legged. Crawler bamfs in, drops off a white, paper bag. Looks like lemon drops. Dude acts like he's just won the lottery.

We surround him. Sit in a circle around. Must look creepy to him. Probably looks creepy to folks outside the circle. Or at least hippy. But we each start projecting calm, weaving a general atmosphere of good feeling.

Slip under the skin.

I can sense that general tingle of power when the other T-paths start to make their move. Like silver shad in an ocean of mind.

Here we go.

#

[The Hurdy Gurdy Man is Thinking]

_ I am I think _

_ I can I am _

_ I think _

_ So I am _

_ The man, the man, the man. _

He's on the ground,

knees on the ground,

Good Bobby, kind Bobby,

helps with the plants

Says to me

"At least

Around you..."

(meaning me)

"I feel okay."

"I like guys"

He says

And I agree

I like guys too

But not  _ like _ guys

Like Bobby like likes guys

I sorta like everyone

But not everyone.

People are loud.

And they get all squirmy

And wriggly

When they get

Excited.

Around  _ me _

As a flower

to the bees

That's me

That's me.

Tinkerbull says

My smell

Gets All-happy

Gets me

All-happy

Even if we shouldn't.

Even if we don't.

#

[A Student Wonders About a Thought]

This guy's loopy. His brain's like aquarium eels on some sort of carousel loopiness. I find him looking my way and I log it. There's this voice in the back of my head, this little warning voice that suddenly chimes in about sharks and about getting swallowed whole and it wants to get to shore. The gardener pops another lemon drop and I'm suddenly thinking another sardine's been snatched out of the ocean.

I start to shudder, just a little bit of fear, but as I do that, my body just--I don't quite know how to describe it-- wrinkles with release. Kind of like giving in to a warm comforter on a chilly Autumn night. Or that pep feeling that hits you when your other half comes to pick you up for a date. Kind of anticipatory in a really pleasant sort of way.

Fear's gone almost as quickly as it popped up. I feel content, almost happy. Confident. I can do this. I flash him a quick smile and go back to concentrating on finding the prize.

#

[The Hurdy Gurdy Man has a Past]

_ I remember _

_ Being sad _

_ Being glad _

_ Being scared _

_ Being bared _

The flower people

The pretty people

They thought I

Was a cheap smoke

I'm not cheap.

I cheep.

I beep

I meep

Tinkerbull laughs.

He does.

Bleh.

I'm just me.

The me that is

That was

That is

That might be.

I am the walrus?

Hello! Goodbye!

I say to Bobby

To Bobby, I say

And he needs

To hear this

"Bobby!"

(I say)

"Be chill!

Eyes open,

because

He's out there,

Waiting for you,

your cool

Gaze

Your cool

Ways."

I smile.

He smiles.

"You're cool."

Tinkerbull says Bobby's happy now

Not me-happy, but real-happy

I helped

I made

I made

I made

A broken thing fixed.

I smile. He smiles. We smile.

The rose is quiet.

I'm alone.

I'm still. Like still. Be still.

I like that.

#

[The Student Notices a Problem]

Holy crap. I heard that. I mean I felt that. I mean. When he thought about that imaginary friend 'Tinkerbull', I could hear Tinkerbull's voice. See Tinkerbull. That is some next-level psychosis that. That's different personalities. That's  _ dangerous _ for T-paths.

A brain is normally a set of paths that swirl around and combine to make a whole. So you latch on to something, follow them around and that's how you get from here to there. Get to a dead end? You just backtrack.

But with a psychotic brain?

All different.

I don't know what to do here.

The prize or secret or whatever the Professor has us going after, it could either be with the gardener or his 'Tinkerbull' side of the brain. And because it's a brain used to being divided, it could keep me from ever getting to the other side, if that's where the secret is.

I could get trapped. Or hurt. Trying to get out.

The gardener notices my emotional state. He seems concerned. The glasses slide down on his nose and he pops another candy. "Nice eyes." He says. "Nice eyes. Nice tits. Nice package." 

Except he says it weird, like: "niceeyesnicetitsnicepackage", like it's words he's heard before but he doesn't really have a meaning attached to them. He just knows it's some sort of compliment and he wants me to be okay.

And, despite myself, I start to giggle. I can't seem to stop. And Grey, across from me, she sees my giggles and breaks out in sympathy. Soon the whole circle is laughing.

Something's wrong.

#

[The Hurdy Gurdy Man Thinks of a Friend]

_ Charley long-thoughts me. _

_ Long _

_ Thoughts _

I remember

Before my smell

The knell, the bell

The school

The learning in my head

Mostly gone, gone, gone

Hard to keep in

All in

All of it in

When I am so, always

Happy.

Long-thoughts Charley

He found me

Sent the gruff man

To get me.

The gruff man

So funny

So frowny

Until

Me-happy

Hit him

Upside the head.

LOnG-THoUGhts Charley 

Told the gruff man

Told the Logan that it was okay.

"Okay? Okay." This man,

This piece of fluff

This doughy boy

With the raven hair and

The candy and the beard

And the big eyes

He won't hurt you

He can't hurt you

He's him-happy, like you

Are me-happy" (except

Charley said him-happy but

He meant

Me)

And the gruff man

He shook

His head

And then

He offered me a cigarette

The first time

Someone gave

Me

A 

Choice.

It burned

It hurt

It was not-happy

My head felt

Stuffed, full

Speedy.

My belly didn't want

Candy.

I

Loved

It.

#

[The Student Comes to a Realization]

I should have known this wouldn't be easy.

Psy-War 101. Like, we're supposed to assume the Professor is going to play it fair?

His ex- as our first assignment; that was the hook. That was to get us complacent and trusting and it worked. It worked like a champ and like a chump we fell for it.

This dude is  _ not _ normal. Not by a long shot

He's powered. He's a mutant. Like us.

This thing was--is--a fake out, a test. I try to stop my giggling. Try to cut off the nerve impulses that keep the grin up. Try to moderate my hormones. But then that picture in the gardener's head.

Of Logan on a motorcycle, cheek to cheek smile, singing "Uptight" by Stevie Wonder at the top of his lungs, with the gardener behind him, equal parts terrified and delighted, adding squeaky harmonies. Then I find myself bent over belly laughing.

I can't stop this.

Help me.

#

[The Hurdy Gurdy Man Has Needs, Too]

_ Tinkerbull said when _

_ I smoked _

_ I looked like a _

_ Campfire _

_ The gruff man couldn't hear him _

_ Or was too polite _

_ To mention it. _

Long-Thought Charley knew

He knew

What

I wanted

What I needed

A bed.

A bit of soil

Things to

Fix

Fix

Fix

Things to grow that glow and show.

And he taught me!

I could think. I could think

Long thoughts like him and all of the other students and I could learn just like them except I would be slower and that wasn't a problem, it was just a "buy-product" of my mutant evolution and that this was okay and it didn't make me any less or more of a person and I could even take classes with only Long-thought Charley and Jean and others like them who didn't have to stay near me and didn't have my mutant power, my smell, my knell of the bell, my flower to the bees, work on them so that they could be sad or frightened or hopeful or angry or grateful or anything, even  _ happy _ except it would be their choice.

See?

I can do long thoughts

Too

If I try.

#

[A Student Tries to Stifle an Otherwise Reasonable Panic]

I'm trying to get out. I am.

His thoughts are so strong, though. So enticing. Or maybe not his thoughts but his power? What the hell is his power? To make people laugh? I don't get it but I have to get out of it. 

I get a brief spurt of communication out to the other T-paths. Try to get them out but they are in as deep as I am. This one student, Calvin, he's having it really bad. I think he's copying the gardener's power, amplifying it. Maybe. I can't get enough of a bead on him without slipping back into the target's thoughts.

I'm scared and I send that pulse of fear down the line. They answer it; I can feel it build. And both Calvin and the gardener sway, like they've been hit. The gardener dives for the bag of candy, like a junkie looking for a fix. Calvin starts twitching his fingers move like he's searching for something.

#

[The Hurdy Gurdy Man is Thinking About a Problem]

_ Tinkerbull says long, long loooong thoughts _

_ Make his nose itch. _

_ Tinkerbull is  NOT Tinkerbell. _

_ That's his sister. _

_ Duh. _

There's more than one fairy, right?

And Tinkerbell is  _ Peter's _ .

Not Ollie's.

I don't like angry people

They make my head buzz and I feel happy

And scared

Not real-happy

Me-happy

And if I feel me-happy

But I should be scared

I know I can't

I can't

I can't.

#

[The Student Works on a Solution]

That's it. That's the solution! There's that show--that wagon-train-to-the-stars show that Hank watches-- a nd there's this episode where these flowers make everyone happy but the captain fights it with rage. Rage!

I pile on the negative emotions. Ask for support. People are pushing hard, working to counteract the happy juice that's being put out. And I look up, anger-filled stare and that dude, Ollie. He's  _ looking at me _ with those puppy dog eyes and he's so sad! There's tears and even just a little bit of drool. He's shaking and my heart just breaks and I just lunge out to give him a hug. We all do.

Damn it.

He got us again.

#

[The Hurdy Gurdy Man is on Assignment]

_ Long-thoughts Charlie is calling me. He gave me _

_ A name _

_ Other than Ollie _

A  _ mutant _ name

A proper, perfect

_ Hero _ name

"Peace." (he says, because he calls me 'Peace') "We need you."

I'm here and I'm queer and I'm thick

Like a brick and I

Can

Help

Help

Help.

"I need some students to show you something." (says Long-Thoughts Charlie). "An interrogation. Do you know what that is?"

I laugh.

I tell him

“Long-Thoughts Charlie, Professor-dresser, Mister mister X

I only got through middle school”

(I say)

“Because the teachers thought I was nice

Like ice

Ice

Ice

And I kept the class cool.

So, no.”

He showed me

The thing of it. The heat of it. The meat of it.

Ew.

I do not like this "interrogation". I do not like it

Ham that I am.

But then

Again

I think Long-Thoughts Charlie has a plan.

The man with the plan and the hand

But no feet.

No feet that work.

Sorry, Charlie.

Hey, because I know

That you are listening

To me, in me, through me, by me

(cause Charlie taught me how

To see, to hear, to feel when

Somebody's in

My head

Like you

You

You)

I want to say thank you.

I mean. Ow. It hurts.

You did good and I know

To my bone, that I own, what

It feels like

Under pressure

Like a water hose

Without a spigot.

So when,

Whenever when

The when-iest of whens

They take me away

Those bad, bad men

And try to say

Say to me

I'm the weak

One

I'm the meek

One

I'm the cheeky

One

And they try to get me to spill the ill and talk and talk and talk, I know it doesn't matter if they are inside me or outside or me, I can be me-happy and have them be me-happy even if they don't want to because then I can go places that Long-Thoughts Charlie has seen and I can pretend that I'm weak and meek and cheek all week and they won't be able to tell that with a yell, I can eat their anger up and up and up and only me-happy being left and then and then and then...

#

[The Student Comes to an Ending]

The gardener looks right at me.

"Then, they'll listen to me."  he finishes

I don't know how to explain this, but the smile that accompanies seems genuine. It shines in his eyes. And with it, a realization: what would it be like to unleash this guy on the world? This person who doesn't want to make people happy and just wants to live a simple life, but  _ can _ bend folks out of anger, out of fury, out of any negative thought if he really needs to, if he needs to get his point  _ across _ .

I've backed out of the hug. The rest of the circle has, too, but they are still trapped in Ollie's Happy-joy and a bit desperate.

"Last dude who tried that was a carpenter." I say to him.

The guy shrugs. "I like to garden." He offers me a lemon drop.

I pop one in my mouth. "Thanks, Ollie."

I think I get it now. The test.

For us, to hold our integrity under an attack we couldn't fully anticipate. For him, the same.

And if I'm going to pass the test, I know what to do.

It's deceptively simple.

Just walk away.

I get up, nod at him and walk away.

As I do, I feel my body start to shift and relax and return to my control. My thoughts start to clear. The others, confused, come stumbling after me and the secret we were looking for comes bubbling up in Ollie's thoughts as he laughs and claps.

The telepathic communication from Charles Xavier: "It  _ will _ be an interrogation, and that won't be fun, Ollie. But it's also a test for them. Can you keep them there? As long as you can, without touching them, until they leave of their own accord?"

Ollie's thoughts, like stilted but still beautiful poetry.  Like breathless haiku on a winter day.

"Oh! Yes! I can do that

At least

I think I can

I think I can I think I

Can

Said the engine

Was it a train?

Tinkerbull says it was."

For just the briefest of moments, I'm sure that I see Tinkerbull, perched on Ollie's shoulder, clinging to one crinkled collar and whispering furiously in Ollie's ear. Then, with a toothy grin, the image fades.

"Bye Ollie!" I say.

He gets up, stretches, and then flounces happily back toward the gardens. As the other students catch up with me, the Professor's voice rings out.

It's time for the next class.

“History of ages past

Unenlightened shadows cast

Down through all eternity

The crying of humanity” - Donovan,  _ The Hurdy Gurdy Man _ (1968)


End file.
